


the laundry problem

by Anonymous



Category: Metaworld Chronicles
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest, except also sex, first fic in the tag let's go, handjobs and laundry, just siblings being siblings - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Washing Dad's boxers and Gwen's training bras was always a pain, but it didn't used to be aproblem.
Relationships: Gwen Song/Percy Song
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: TFiEsta 2020





	the laundry problem

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [TFiEsta](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TFiEsta) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
> 
> 
> Incest (smut, preferably)

The thing about living in the Song household was that the laundry didn't get done unless you did it yourself. Morye always preferred to drown himself in the nearest pair of tits with a pretty face (Gwen excluded) until he forgot that he ever had responsibilities at all, much less two specific responsibilities named "Gwen" and "Percy". Meanwhile, Gwen constantly forgot that chores existed until she was faced directly with a sink full of stinking dishes and a closet empty of clean clothes.  
  
Consequently, Percy had been doing the family laundry on and off since he was nine. That was kind of the deal, not that it was ever formalized: Dad cooked and cleaned when he was home and remembered or cared to; when he didn't, Gwen took point on scrounging up food, and Percy took point on cleaning. Sometimes Gwen forgot or got in a mood, and Percy picked up the slack--but then, Gwen picked up the slack for him too sometimes, just to be nice. It worked, more or less. So more often than not it was Percy doing the laundry, and while washing Dad's boxers and Gwen's training bras was always a pain, it didn't use to be a _problem_. But then--  
  
" _Ew!_ " Percy yelped, suddenly recognizing the skimpy undergarment he was holding.  
  
Gwen's head snapped up. She made a beeline from her bed to snatch the throng out of his hands. " _I'll_ do the laundry, so--" she hurriedly stuffed it into the pile on her study table-- "so go _away!_ "  
  
"Why do you _have_ that?!"  
  
"Mother gave them to me," Gwen mumbled, blushing furiously, gathering the pile of laundry into her arms.  
  
_Them? Plural?_  
  
"Why--no, you know what--"  
  
"It's for under dresses, and, and things!"  
  
"--la la la, I don't want to know!" Percy raised his voice over hers, putting his hands over his ears and making for the door. "Just wear spats!" he yelled as he slammed the door behind him, leaving Gwen red-faced and cringing in his wake, arms full of clothes.  
  


* * *

  
Gwen did her own laundry after that, for a little while, which was very helpful in Percy's quest to avoid gross thoughts about the logistics of her undergarments. The problem was that Gwen was terrible at chores, and her embarrassed determination had an expiration date. Within a few weeks, she had reverted to her usual sporadic laundry patterns. After that, it only took another visit with Mother, and the next day brought him face to face with that thong again--and a strapless push-up bra to match.  
  
Face hot, he checked the tag for care instructions. It was some kind of silky fabric, possibly very expensive, knowing their mother. If it got ruined because he'd washed it wrong, _he_ would be the one who'd have to hear Gwen crying about it in the next room over, when Mother found out. As he read, he absently rubbed the fabric between his fingers; it felt good against the skin. He wondered if--  
  
The front door whined slowly open and then kicked loudly shut. "Perrrrrcyyyyy!" Gwen called down the hallway. "Takeout's arrived!"  
  
Concluding hastily that both items needed to be washed separately on a delicate cycle, he held them pinched in his fingertips and dropped them into the washer, along with the sheath dress with the plunging triangular neckline and the gather on one hip.  
  
But the clothes haunted him all the way into the kitchen and through one bowl of fried rice and another of yellow curry. He tried not to _look_ like he was looking at his sister strangely, but he couldn't help himself. His eyes just kept returning to the curve of her jeans over her thighs, the little strip of skin on her hip that peeked into view when she reached for something on the table, the way the loose neckline of her t-shirt showed off her collarbone--that dress would've shown much more. He hadn't caught her before she'd left to lunch with Mother, so he could only guess what she looked like wearing it, whether it fit her--not all of Mum's presents did--how much it showed off...  
  
Later that night, possibly in retaliation, Gwen ambushed him.  
  
"You could try them on," Gwen suggested quietly, sitting on her bed with a book on her lap. "If you want."  
  
Percy froze in the midst of folding the clothes on her desk, something he'd never bothered with before but had started doing recently. To his utter horror, his immediate reaction wasn't disgust--just an ambiguous mix of emotions he couldn't put his finger on. None of them said "no".  
  
Doing his best to hide the fact that his heart rate had just gone through the roof and up past the shield barriers, he turned and gave her a dirty look. She shrugged.  
  
"It'd be kind of fun, right? _Someone_ should have a good time with them."  
  
Her voice was oddly wistful. Eyes narrowed, Percy tried to study her face for clues as to what she was thinking, signs of some kind of trick. But for once in her life, her face wasn't talking. Her expression was calm and non-committal, almost challenging in its steadiness. Percy chewed on his lip, imagining her face twisting into a triumphant sneer. _'Caught ya!'_  
  
After much too long a pause, Percy set down the folded jeans with an exaggerated huff. "You can do the rest yourself," he said severely, and went for the door, trying to seem emphatic about it. Gwen didn't try to stop him, or even to reply, and Percy went straight to his room at top speed before realizing that he didn't know what to do there. He tried to study, then he tried to sleep, thoughts swirling.  
  


* * *

  
No no no no _no!_  
  
Percy collapsed on his bed. He was _not_ going to get a boner from this, no way, absolutely not. He had to think of something else. He clenched his hands at his sides and started reciting _Good's Elementary Incantations_ , counting them off on his fingers when the roiling mess in his head caused him to lose track--then by number five he yelled in frustration and punched his pillow.  
  
He hadn't even gone in for her laundry! If it had just been that, maybe he would've gone away and tried again later when she didn't answer the door. But no, she was blaring her music and it was interrupting Dad's mahjong game, so it was up to Percy to tell her to turn it down.  
  
Incantations weren't working. He had to think of something else. Dad showering? Percy forced himself to imagine Morye's head all lathered up with shampoo, injected as much detail as he could manage into the image of water streaming down his hairy ass and legs--  
  
Well. It was definitely disgusting, but somehow it did nothing to help his _problem_ , which was still straining at his fly.  
  
Giving up, Percy growled and unzipped, letting the mental image morph into something feminine--Gwen's friend with the huge tits, yeah. Pale skin--pale as Gwen's but prettier, Gwen's skin was _too_ pale, and she was--no no no, Yue. Yue. Yue, with water running down those tits--he grasped his dick and tried to imagine them, too big to fit in one hand, pale, nipples small and pink like--  
  
_Ugh, no_ _!_ Percy scolded himself, forcing his hand to still. That was exactly what he was supposed to _not_ think about. Gwen wasn't even hot! Her breasts were too small, to start with, even if those nipples were pretty good, and she got so tall so fast she looked like a damn colt on stilts, except--except then she sort of grew into her limbs, which were now sorta delicate and feminine, sliding alluringly against and over each other when she crossed them. Plus her eyes--  
  
Percy groaned, and not in a good way. Fine, he would admit, Gwen was pretty; even Mother said as much. But she was supposed to be pretty when dressed _up_ , not sans makeup and, you know, _clothes!_  
  
Really, Percy should've been taking this better. It wasn't like he'd never popped a boner over something weird--it happened a lot these days actually--but however annoyed it made him, he took it in stride, because he wasn't _Gwen_. Percy had better self control than this. At least, he'd _thought_ he did.  
  
There was a single cursory tap upon his door before it opened. "Percy?"  
  
Percy brought up his knees to his chest to disguise what he was doing and scrambled for his blankets. " _Get out!_ " he screeched in alarm, as Gwen quickly looked him over, stepped inside, and closed the door neatly, decisively, behind her.  
  
She took a deep breath, now standing in a singlet and underwear, with the closed door at her back. "I can help," she said, her game face just a little unsteady.  
  
Percy didn't fully register what she'd said until she had one knee on the bed and was pushing the blankets aside with one hand, and with the other--  
  
_Holy shit!_ The sound Percy made was completely unplanned and involuntary, as Gwen's soft, cool fingers made contact with his dick. He basically forgot anything and everything else, including volume control, and his previous attempt to cover himself up, because holy _shit_ that felt--  
  
The touch was light and shivery, like a tease. He wanted more, harder, but when he whined and lifted his hips into it, she either ignored it or didn't get the message. It felt like his entire _brain_ kept flickering out, especially when Gwen swung one bare, white, long long _long_ leg over him to straddle him, her warm weight coming down on his lap.  
  
He realised suddenly that he had started running his hands voraciously over her legs, up her thighs to burrow his fingertips under the elastic of her panties. Seized with sudden curiosity, he slid his hands up her singlet to cup her tits-- _tits are tits! doesn't matter who they're attached to!_ \--with absolutely no idea what to expect. They were--not very big, just a little handful, but they were _soft_ , plush, easy to squeeze. Like a stress ball, if a stress ball was sexy enough to induce a stroke.  
  
And abruptly Percy was seized by panic as even the frustratingly light touch stopped entirely. Only halfway able to strangle the reproachful groan in his throat, he looked up--Gwen's eyes were closed--then down, and--  
  
The hand that had been touching him was now between her legs, her hips rolling and pressing into it, and Percy just--had _no_ idea what to do with that, it was like someone had cranked some dial up a couple notches, wound it up tighter or some sort of--  
  
And then metaphors stopped being at all relevant, because her hand was back, only now she wasn't teasing: full palm contact and firm, strong strokes. Then on an upstroke, she did some _thing_ with her hand on the head and he just snapped like a bowstring, vision going completely white.  
  
Panting, Percy came back to himself to see Gwen looking down at his spent dick with her eyes widened and her pink lips making an O. He flushed with annoyance, feeling prickly and competitive. _Fuck it._ He sat up and pressed the palm of his hand where hers had been, right in the heat between her legs, feeling a surge of triumph when she let out a high, surprised moan. He wasn't exactly sure what to do from there, but from the way Gwen's hips started to rut against his hand he gathered that movement would be a good start. He was rewarded with breathy moans, Gwen's head tilting back, and a trickle of liquid against his fingers. With a mounting sense of confidence, Percy pushed up her singlet again and--fuck, why not: lunged forward to take one delicate nipple between his lips, to run his tongue over it and suck at it. Gwen suddenly grabbed his shoulders with surprising force, hands making fists in his shirt, pushing him back.  
  
"Gwen--?" Figuring he'd been too rough, he started to withdraw his hand from the crux of her legs, but she seized it and held it there. For a flash second he thought of that view he'd had of Gwen's dainty fingers between the petal lips down there, whether he could get _his_ hand down there under her briefs--  
  
Gwen shivered all over--and then pushed him firmly away, letting his hand go and putting him at arm's length. "Um," she said, voice husky, and started hurriedly untangling herself, slipping off the bed and then to the door. "You should sleep. School tomorrow. I'm gonna sleep. G'night."  
  
Percy sat on his bed in mute confusion, mind quizzically replaying the abrupt end to the encounter. When it hit him, he went hot all over.  
  
She'd _come_. That's what that was, her orgasm, that's what he saw: she'd come over his hand with his mouth on her boob and he'd--  
  
Percy moaned desperately and fisted his cum-sticky cock, mind picking up the fantasy right where reality left off: he thought of pulling down those tiny panties and plunging his fingers into the wild heat inside of her, right where hers had been when he'd opened her door, where her pale flesh flushed and darkened. In his mind her hips moved and twisted, and she moaned louder and bit her lip, and--  
  
It didn't take much more of that for him to come again. He let his head _thunk_ back against the wall and let out a long, perturbed sigh, looking up at the ceiling, thoughts swirling in time with the ceiling fan but refusing to coalesce. He thought he should probably be thinking something about what just happened, but he was tired, and the lapful of jizz situation was getting increasingly gross as he waited. Deciding that whatever freakout or epiphany was coming could wait until morning, he wriggled out of his soiled clothes, wiping his sticky fingers on his shirt, and tossed them in the laundry bin.  
  
No having to hide the jizz in your clothes if you're the one doing the laundry, he thought drowsily, as he settled into bed in fresh clothes. So that was one advantage.

**Author's Note:**

> MWC u deserve u some gud incest smut (as a treat) and im here 2 delivr


End file.
